Game Set Match
by rhapsodybree
Summary: He couldn't stand being apart from her after Wimbledon. Peter Colt/Lizzie Bradbury.
1. Game

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

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><p>They'd had to separate after Peter's Wimbledon win: he to tie up things at his end, and Lizzie needed to get back to the US to work on her serve and get ready for the upcoming US Open.<p>

Being apart had been miserable. Emails, texts and long distance calls weren't the same, and the next time they saw each other was when he arrived for the US Open Opening Gala night three weeks later.

There was loud music playing, spotlights flashing and people everywhere as he stepped into the building.

"Shame you're not playing," one man exclaimed, throwing out his hand when he entered. "We could have done with another British winner."

"Uh yeah," Peter replied absentmindedly, shaking the hand that was already in his grasp. "If you'll excuse me, I'm looking for someone."

He didn't hear the response, already moving into the throng of people, searching.

He found her not long after, seated at the bar. With a smirk, he made his way over. "Anyone sitting here?"

He saw the delight in her eyes when she turned, before she decided to play along with the game. "I'm actually waiting for someone."

"Oh," he feigned. "Perhaps I can wait with you in the meantime? The name is Peter. Peter Colt."

"Well, hello Peter Peter Colt," she giggled, stretching out a hand. "I'm Lizzie Bradbury."

He took the hand and more when he tugged her upright into his arms and kissed her soundly then and there. Easing back, her arms were firmly around his neck. "God I've missed you."

She stood on her tippy toes to peck him on the lips. "Not as much as I have."

"Leave?" he asked hopefully. She laughed as he tightened her grip on her. "We just got here!"

"So?"

She patted his chest, fixing his shirt collar. "One hour," she promised.

His eyes darkened with desire. "I'm counting."

It was 39 minutes later when, separating for the first time, Peter returned from the toilet to find Lizzie talking with Jake Hammond. He swiftly made his way over.

Sliding his hand over Lizzie's hip, he encircled her waist, splaying his fingers across her abdomen in a blatant show of possession.

She clearly didn't mind, covering his hand with hers and tilting her head to be kissed. It was natural, and so he did just that.

He knew they were both grinning like idiots when they parted and faced Jake again. "Oh for fucks sake," the hot-headed man swore before storming off.

"Someone needs to teach him about manners," admonished Peter, dropping his head to her shoulder to speak softly into her ear.

Lizzie snorted as she raised a hand to cover her mouth as Peter's grip on her tightened and he nuzzled at her neck. She smiled as she tilted her head to be kissed again.

Parting, she bit her bottom lip gleefully. "Let's get out of here."

He was startled. "You sure? You've still got fourteen mi..." He trailed off as she looked at him with an amused expression. "Oh sod it."

Clasping her hand firmly, he dragged her toward the door without much ceremony. "Good night everyone," he bellowed before she laughed and pushed him out the door.

Heading for the carpark, he stilled. "Do you have a car?" he suddenly questioned. "I got here by taxi."

She couldn't stop laughing at the incredulity of the situation. "Right this way."

They made it to the side of the car before, as Lizzie fiddled with the keys, he covered her body with his, pressing them against the door.

Driving anywhere was momentarily forgotten as they partook in a spontaneous make out session.

Eventually parting, both breathing heavily, it was Peter who reached for the keys. "Let's get out of here."

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><p><em>Next chapter: <em>A proposal.


	2. Set

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

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><p>Lizzie didn't make it to the finals, but they were both there to watch the big match: a showdown between the Williams sisters.<p>

Seated side by side, Peter's arm at her back, her hand on his thigh, their hands rarely left each other as they enjoyed the spectacle.

It was in the third set that Lizzie began to notice that Peter was spending more time looking at her than looking at the match.

"Game's that way," she chided gently, gripping his jaw to turn him in the right direction.

"Mm," he acknowledged vaguely.

She smirked and turned her own attention back to the game, only to discover not long after that he was looking at her again.

"What?" she said, grinning.

"I need to ask you something," he said seriously.

"Now?" she replied incredulously, half an eye on where the sisters were playing the tie-breaker.

Peter paused a moment. "Yes now." Sliding from his chair, Lizzie's eye grew wide as he knelt on one knee.

"Peter..." she breathed, her hand covering her mouth.

All those around them remained oblivious, the game tense, as he drew forth a little box. Opening it, his hand shaking slightly, he held it up.

"Lizzie." He swallowed and tried again. "Elizabeth Bradbury, will you marry me?" He didn't leave it there and continued to speak. "This past month has made me realise that frankly, I can't live without you, and I want you in my life-"

"Yes."

"-permanently. I love y... What did you say?"

"Yes." She was crying happily now as she laughed. "Yes, I'll marry you."

He did the only thing he could think of; jumping up to tug her into his arms and kiss her soundly.

The crowd was cheering madly around them when they parted and he slid the ring on to her finger. "You've just made me the happiest man in the world."

She intertwined his fingers with hers as she grinned. "I know."

Their lips met again, intent only on each other. Parting when the need to breathe became paramount, they were both grinning like idiots.

"Who won?"

"I haven't the foggiest."

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><p><em>Next chapter: <em>An interview.


	3. Match

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

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><p>"It's been a year since Peter Colt pulled off one the biggest upsets in history, winning Wimbledon and becoming the first Brit in a long time to do so on home soil.<p>

"So how has your life changed for you?" asked Maria Corillo, turning to her guest.

As the camera zoomed in on Peter Colt, he tilted his head, staring into the distance as he considered his reply. "A lot..."

He'd retired from professional tennis, turned down the job teaching old ladies, started putting together a tennis program for young kids, gotten married to Lizzie Bradbury and was expecting his first kid any day now.

He grinned as he faced Maria Corillo once again. "Yeah, a lot."

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><p><em>Finito<em>.


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